Four years ago my papa passed away and 3 weeks ago my nana finally joined him.
Death never gets any easier. No matter how many times you say goodbye, the ache in your soul and the hole in your heart grows ever more painful and large.
I was thinking of dedicating my book to Nana, Papa and my mom which by the way I am still in the process of writing. It's taking a lot longer to write than I originally anticipated. I never thought writing a book could be so difficult but it is. For some reason I have a difficult time getting what's in my head out and onto paper. I can see everything, the way it starts, where it goes and how it ends yet I still run into mental blocks every now and then.
I miss them. I miss papa and how he'd sneak me plantains that nana would make for him to eat while we watched TV. I miss the smell of his cologne and the mass amount of hats he'd collected over his lifetime. I miss helping him pick avocados and oranges from the trees he planted himself. I miss guys night where he'd have his friends over and they'd play dominos. I miss my nana and how she'd dote on everyone, papa more than anyone. I miss watching As The World Turns with her while we ate lunch. I miss how every time she'd watch the PBA (bowling) she'd yell at them and how crappy they were playing. It always made me laugh. I miss her perfume and watching her get ready for her day. I miss her cooking. I miss that no matter how many times I corrected her she'd always call me Eleonor, which is my momma's name.
I miss how they'd argue in spanish, I always found it so amusing. No matter what they argued about at the end of they day they loved each other more than life itself. I miss them.